LOCKE
Driving faster in my car
Falling farther from just what we are
Falling farther from just what we are
Locke made his way down the beach, headed for the little cove he'd become so comfortable with. After his talk with Maeve, he had gone home with the hopes that she'd talk to their son. It wasn't fair for him to just show up and try to act like nothing had happened. He's not sure if Edmund really understood but it didn't matter. So now he was just waiting. But the silence of the apartment had been too much.
He walks slowly, almost lazily, simply soaking in the warm spring sun. It's quiet, just a hair too early for most people to be awake, or at least out on the beach. A small figure catches his attention. Locke watches the boy with half-hearted interest, some kind of paternal instinct forcing him to pay attention, despite the fact that lone children aren't that uncommon in Torchline.
But then then something catches his attention, a glint of gold around the boy's neck. Locke's eyes narrow as he tries to look at it more closely. As if by habit, he brings one hand up, finding his necklace gone. Strange. He didn't remember taking it off.
"Hey, boy, where'd you get that?" He's seen smaller pickpockets.
He walks slowly, almost lazily, simply soaking in the warm spring sun. It's quiet, just a hair too early for most people to be awake, or at least out on the beach. A small figure catches his attention. Locke watches the boy with half-hearted interest, some kind of paternal instinct forcing him to pay attention, despite the fact that lone children aren't that uncommon in Torchline.
But then then something catches his attention, a glint of gold around the boy's neck. Locke's eyes narrow as he tries to look at it more closely. As if by habit, he brings one hand up, finding his necklace gone. Strange. He didn't remember taking it off.
"Hey, boy, where'd you get that?" He's seen smaller pickpockets.
Smoke a cigarette and lie some more
These conversations kill
These conversations kill
